


More Than Just Tonight

by NotAScandinavian



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Alcohol, Light Angst, M/M, Mentions of Death, Sexual Content, its not as depressing as it seems really, small mentions of Jules and Anthoine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:16:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21917869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotAScandinavian/pseuds/NotAScandinavian
Summary: What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas... or does it?
Relationships: Charles Leclerc/Daniel Ricciardo
Comments: 4
Kudos: 55





	More Than Just Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> Okay first of all, MAJOR shoutout to my partner in crime 'sheswanderlust' for writing so absolutely beautifully THAT night in Vegas. I decided it deserved a follow up although it will be nothing in comparison to 'beautiful, dirty, rich' (which if you haven't read, WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?)
> 
> Anyway, I'm going to TRY my best to follow up that absolute masterpiece so, here we go!

There's light literally attacking him. He feels like a vampire who stumbled out into the sun and his skin is burning, reducing him to a pile of glittering ashes, or that's what the movies led him to believe anyway. Charles lifts a hand to shield his eyes, head pounding and he thinks he might be sick. He sits up slowly, cradling his head in one hand and covering his mouth with the other when he yawns.

The bathroom looks like it's precisely ten miles away and Charles wonders if he's hungover or still drunk. Probably caught somewhere in between as the room seems to sway a little. Fucking hell why did he drink so damn much? He manages to muster the energy to get up, albeit very carefully, testing his balance as he stumbles his way to the bathroom. His stomach protests at the sudden change in gravity and he definitely thinks he'll be sick. 

Much to his relief, or disappointment, he makes it to the sink and in fact manages to keep the cocktail of various alcoholic beverages seated in his stomach. There's a small squeak as he turns the tap on and splashes some cold water on his face. He reaches out for a towel and dries his face, finally meeting his reflection in the mirror. 

He looks like shit. His hair is standing in all directions, there's deep set dark circles under his eyes, and... a large redish purpleish bruise on his neck. Charles lifts his fingers to trace the blossom of dark colours against his slightly tanned skin. Who did that to him? There's no question it's a hickey. He slumps down onto the toilet, relieving himself before finally taking in his surroundings, many unanswered questions are floating around in his head, the main one being; what the fuck happened last night?

It's definitely not his hotel for a start, he knows that much. His bathroom is painted in aquatic shades of blue and this one is cream and white marble. He rests his face in his hands, trying to pick out parts of his timeline from last night, or this morning, what time is now anyway? What day is it?

He flushes the toilet and washes his hands, rinses some mouthwash around his mouth and steps back out into the bedroom, reality hitting him like a baseball bat to the back of the head when he sees the culprit of the hickey laying in the bed and little snippets of his memory come rushing to the front of his brain. 

Daniel Ricciardo. Night club. Shots. Lots of shots. The lights. The dancing. The kissing. 

Fuck.

He's still sound asleep, the white sheets covering him from the waist down and his honey coloured skin positively glowing in the morning sun, or is it the afternoon? Charles tip toes around to the nightstand, looking at the clock and holy shit, it's quarter past three in the afternoon. He does vaguely recall seeing the sun starting to make an appearance when they stumbled into a taxi to get back to the hotel. Shit, they had a make out session in the back of the taxi didn't they?

Charles groans, how could he be so stupid? So careless? Anyone could have seen them. Their names plastered across every paper in the world. Half a season in Ferrari and that would have been it, his F1 career over before it even began.

Charles is startled when Daniel rolls over in his sleep, mumbling something incoherent, long curls falling over his forehead. 

They had sex last night. The used condom and bottle of lube on the floor confirms that. Charles swallows thickly. It's not like he hadn't thought about it before, but he didn't think it would actually happen. To be honest he thought Daniel wasn't into him at all. It's not like they were that friendly, not since Jules passed, they grew apart. He figured it was a number of things. Daniel was so much older and Charles was still in karts, it was Jules he was friends with not him, he just happened to be there. The annoying kid always wanting to join in and beating them both at any game they played. When he finally made it into F1 himself he tried to rekindle the friendship but nothing came of it, just a few small talk conversations before press conferences and drivers parades. So how in the hell did he end up in his bed after one night in Vegas?

Charles scratches his head. He didn't know Daniel was in Vegas, he just remembers waiting to check in at the hotel lobby when a loud Australian accented, "Charlie!" came from across the lounge and Daniel literally bounced over. 

"Well fancy seeing you here mate, what brings you to wonderful Las Vegas?" Daniel beamed, wrapping an arm around Charles' shoulders. 

"Uhm, holidays?" Charles answered matter of factly. Why else?

"What you up to tonight?"

"Ah nothing. We're going tomorrow to see- " He was cut off by Daniel shoving a finger against his lips and making a buzzer sound.

"Wrong answer. If your immediate answer doesn't involve alcohol then you're doing it wrong. You're in Vegas baby!" Daniel practically shouted and it earned them a few stares from people around them and Charles laughed a little bashfully.

"Daniel I can't."

"I don't care what Ferrari says, you're on holidays, loosen up. We're going out, I know a great place! Take all your friends, it'll be great!" 

That was pretty much the last coherent memory Charles had of the last twenty four hours. It all went downhill from there. He's pretty sure he never had that much alcohol in his life ever. He does vaguely remember his friends leaving at some time around three am and stupidly letting Daniel make him stay for 'just one more drink!'.

Charles sighs, what a mess. He finds his jeans on the floor with his phone still in the back pocket although dead, finding a charger already plugged into the wall and connecting it, the little battery symbol illuminating as it started to revive itself. He didn't know what he should do about the situation now. He figured getting the hell out of there would be the best start, he really didn't want to confront Daniel right now. This was all awkward enough as it was, waking up next to one of your fellow drivers after a wild night out where many bad decisions were made.

He gathered his clothes, getting dressed as quietly as he could. He was just putting on his shoes when his phone rang and Daniel stirred, groaning, "Turn it off!"

Charles groaned too, his plan was ruined, reaching over for the phone and seeing the name 'Giada' lighting up the screen. Shit.

"Ciao." Charles answered and was met with immediate yelling, so loud Daniel could hear it and Charles rubbed his eyes with his fingers.

Daniel listened to Charles speaking in Italian, not knowing what he was saying but judging by his tone it didn't sound good and he could already guess who was on the other end of the call.

"Si, si, arrivederci." Charles sighed as he hung up the phone, knowing he had to turn and face the consequences, "Hey." He said sheepishly to Daniel.

"Hey." Daniel smiled softly, "Everything okay?"

Charles shrugged, "Well, not really. That was Giada and I'm as good as dead."

Daniel made a guilty face, sitting up and playing with the corner of the quilt, "Sorry?"

Charles shrugged again, "I have..." Charles pressed a button on his phone, "Exactly twenty three missed calls, fourteen texts and I don't even know how many snapchats yet, I haven't opened them." He runs a hand through his hair, some of it flopping over his forehead.

There's silence for a while before Daniel notices the height of the sun outside, "Um, what time is it?"

"Half three?" Charles informs him and Daniel winces and then laughs.

"Well shit, almost time for dinner."

Charles curls his nose up at the thought of food, stomach still too on edge to handle anything else thrown at it right now.

"Well I better go." Charles goes back to tying his shoe lace.

"Hey, about last night..." Daniel starts but trails off.

"We'll um, talk about it some other time, not right now?" Charles turns to look at him and Daniel supposes he can spare him some time to gather his thoughts and he nods. He watches as Charles gets up, now fully dressed again and grabs his phone, "See you in Spa I guess?" 

"Yeah, I'll be there." Daniel smiles softly and Charles returns a small smile before leaving the room.

Daniel flops back down onto the bed with a loud groan, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes. He could see the look of regret on Charles' face and he wondered if he just ruined any chance of ever having anything with the young Ferrari driver ever again. 

The holidays came to an end and before Daniel knew it he was in Spa. Sitting at a meeting with the Renault team but his mind completely elsewhere. He didn't hear anything from Charles after that afternoon in Vegas. He wrote out so many texts and deleted them all, wanting to give him space but at the same time wanting to know if he burned any bridges. He just didn't know. Yeah they were drunk but, Charles was just as enthusiastic as he was. He was almost sure it meant something, despite the liquid blur, maybe he underestimated how drunk Charles was, how much his inhibitions would actually crumble under the influence. 

"Hey, you alright?" Nico nudged Daniel who was bouncing his knee.

"Yeah, I'm good." Daniel smiled, "Just itching to get going."

After the meeting Daniel stepped outside of the motorhome into the paddock, spotting Charles in the crowd getting swarmed by fans. He was just about to make his way over to the Monegasque when there was a sudden commotion, people started running toward the track. 

"What's going on?" Daniel asked as Nico bumped him as he ran out of the motorhome behind him.

"There's been a crash in F2."

It brought back painful memories as the drivers stood around in a circle, black bands on each of their arms.

Daniel looked over to Charles who had his head bowed, meeting his eyes when he looked up and he nodded at him, the mutual understanding of loss, of having to go through this again.

He was so proud when he watched Charles take the top step on the podium, raising the trophy and his hands in the air. He never met someone so strong in his life.

_'Well done. You deserved that today, he deserved it.'_ Daniel typed out a text to Charles, needing to say something to him.

Later in his hotel room when he was just about to fall asleep, his phone lit up.

_'Thanks.'_

There wasn't much time to recover as they moved on to Monza. Charles knew he had to talk to Daniel, to sort out what happened that night in Vegas but now was not the time. There was so much going on, the loss of a friend, his first F1 win, the frenzy of the Tifosi at Monza as soon as he stepped foot into the country.

Charles had also wrote out countless texts and erased them, not knowing the right thing to say. He needed time to think about it. After he got back to his own hotel that day and got a lecture from Giada and watched her fall apart as he admitted to sleeping with someone else, although sparing the details about who, they ended their relationship there and then but put on a facade for the sake of their friends because it was their holiday too. As soon as they landed back in Monaco she packed her things. He felt terrible, it wasn't like him to do things like that but he was reckless. He felt even worse about the fact that he didn't seem to miss her after a few days, mind always wandering back to the blurred lines of Daniel. How he felt, how he made him feel, dreams and fantasies that finally came to life.

He finally hit send on a message. Putting his phone away and putting on his Ferrari cap, bracing himself to step out into the paddock.

_'We'll talk after the race.'_

Another win. In Italy, at Monza of all places. Charles felt high. Positively buzzing as he crossed the finish line. Yelling down the radio. Revelling in the cheering of the Tifosi below as he stood on the podium. It was just a whirlwind of champagne and hugs and handshakes for hours. He felt like the first time he got to breathe was when he sat down on a stool at the bar of the Grid Club, a red bull and vodka in his hand. He was going to celebrate this one for days.

"To Charles." Pierre raised his glass, also containing the liquid that was embroidered onto every piece of clothing he owned, "The prince of Ferrari."

"I think you mean the king." Charles laughed, clinking his glass against Pierre's along with some other friends and then downing it, the sharp taste of vodka stinging his throat as he immediately ordered another.

They were laughing at some story Pierre was telling when Charles spotted Daniel from across the room. Their eyes met and Daniel smiled and motioned as if he was tipping his imaginary hat to him. Charles smirked and raised his glass, watching the Australian disappear into the crowd.

"I'll be back in a minute." Charles said to Pierre, winding his way through the crowd, which was quite difficult when he was the centre of attention. Eventually he found Daniel, outside in a smoking area, "Hey." Charles sat beside him, surprised to see Daniel lift a cigarette to his mouth and take a drag, lazily blowing out smoke, "I didn't know you smoked."

"Just sometimes." Daniel shrugs, offering it to Charles, "Wanna try?"

Charles looked at it, the burning ash at the front falling off onto the ground and he thought why the hell not. He took at drag, the smoke burning his throat in the same way the alcohol did, giving the cigarette back to Daniel.

"This seems somewhat familiar doesn't it?" Daniel smirks, taking another drag and Charles seems focused on the way his lips move.

"How do you mean?" Charles takes a sip of his drink.

"Loud music. Lights. Alcohol. You. Me." Daniel stares at him intensely and Charles suddenly feels small.

"Yeah. We need to talk." Charles scratches the back of his neck, looking down into his drink and fixating on the way the bubbles of the carbonated energy drink rise in a steady stream.

"I'm all ears."

"I broke up with Giada." Charles blurts out and it actually does take Daniel by surprise.

"Oh." 

"Yeah. I mean. I didn't tell her it was you but, I couldn't exactly hide it, you left the biggest bruise ever on my neck."

Daniel chuckles at that, especially since Charles narrows his eyes at him, looking like a pissed off puppy, "Sorry about that."

"The thing is. I don't feel all that bad about it?"

"So what are you saying?" Daniel throws the cigarette on the ground, stepping on it to put it out.

"Look. I needed time to figure some stuff out, to think about this, about us, about what happened."

"You know, maybe we should talk about this when you're sober." Daniel nods down at the drink in Charles' hand.

"It's only my second drink." Charles defends himself, making a point by setting the glass on the table, away from him, "I've had some time to think and, I think I want to be with you." Charles stiffens, the conversation played out well in his head when he thought about it but now, actually saying it out loud to Daniel, he wasn't so sure any more what way it would go down. Maybe Daniel just wanted a one night stand? Maybe that's all it was, just one wild fling under the influence of the Vegas night, maybe he looked too deep into it.

"Yeah?" Daniel's eyes visibly light up.

"I- yeah." Charles smiles softly, "I know it won't be easy but, yeah, I do want to be with you. That's if you want to be with me?"

"Charles, honestly I've done nothing but think about you since the first day you walked into the paddock in red." Daniel admits, reaching out to cup Charles' face with his hand, "Yeah I kinda wish this whole thing went a bit more romantically than a drunk night out but, honestly, you were linked to too many old memories for me at first." Charles leans his cheek into Daniel's touch, "But I don't know man, you grew up." Daniel laughs, "And got hot."

Charles scoffs, greenish grey eyes twinkling in the dim light, "So what does this mean?"

Daniel leans in, lips brushing against Charles' ear, "I think it means we should get out of here."

Charles feels excitement at the pit of his stomach, the same kind of nervous adrenaline when he's waiting for the lights to go out at the start of the grid. Daniel grabs his drink and downs it for him, standing up and taking Charles' hand, "We have some finer details to work out, but for now, I think you have a win to celebrate."

Charles smirks and lets himself be pulled up by Daniel and back into the club. Green, white and red lights swirling around the room.

"Hey! There you are!" Pierre catches them, handing them each a shot, "Drink up!"

Daniel and Charles look at each other, "Maybe one dance?" Charles shouts over the music.

"Sure thing." Daniel smirks and chucks back the shot of whatever it was.

Its fantastic. The thumping music, everyone cheering for Charles as he's hoisted up onto Daniel and Pierre's shoulders, the race replaying on screens around them. 

They're careful with their alcohol intake this time, aware they all have flights to catch tomorrow. Charles is just lightly buzzed when the music changes, Daniel pulling him close just like he did that night not so long ago, mouthing the words to the song.

_I know you want me. I made it obvious that I want you too._

They can't be reckless this time, there's too many people who know them around. 

"My room or yours?" Charles shouts into Daniel's ear, pulling back to look at him with that mischievous glint in his eye.

"I think it's your turn." 

Charles winks at him that way he does, taking Daniel's hand and pulling him out through the crowd, feeling like he's about to jump off a cliff. There's no going back now, no bad decisions to blame the next morning. 

They're on each other as soon as the hotel door closes, Charles moaning into Daniel's mouth as he finally feels his lips on his again, sober enough this time to remember it.

"You're sure?" Daniel checks.

"Shut up." Charles laughs, pulling Daniel's shirt up and over his head, connecting their lips again as soon as the fabric falls onto the floor. He's being walked backwards toward the bed and falls down onto it, pushing himself up on his hands to start mouthing at Daniel's abs. He starts working on the button of Daniel's jeans, getting them open and just about to go for the boxers too when Daniel tilts his head up to look at him.

"Slow down. We've got time." Daniel smiles and Charles blushes. He lifts his arms to be stripped of his own shirt, Daniel leaning down to kiss him slowly, each slip of his tongue on his sending flames down south. Daniel nips at his lower lip when he pulls away, pushing off his jeans and taking off his socks, leaving him in nothing but his underwear.

Charles does the same, arousal building at the thought of doing this with Daniel again. Soon they're a mass of tangled limbs on the bed, all sharp angles and muscle, touching anywhere they can reach whilst kissing. Charles is pulled over to straddle Daniel, grinding down on him a little and Daniel moans as he starts mouthing at his neck, sucking and biting, earning a laugh when he smacks Charles' ass playfully, "Bastard."

"Payback's a bitch." Charles smirks and then yelps when he's tossed onto his back, Daniel pinning his wrists at either side of his head.

"You'll pay for that."

"Oh yeah?" Charles squirms, getting some friction but nowhere near enough. 

Daniel kisses him again, trailing his tongue down Charles' neck and down his torso, "Keep your hands there." He instructs, moving his hands down to hold Charles by his waist and he feels so small in his grip, like he could just do anything with him. He plays with the waistband of his boxers, making Charles' breath hitch and his hips twitch, seeking out the pressure he wants.

"Fuck." The curse slips out of Charles' mouth when Daniel mouths at him through his boxers, teasing him for while before removing the underwear and then taking him into his mouth, the same word falling out of his lips over and over as he watches the curly head move up and down on his cock, the dark honey brown eyes looking up at him and he has to grab the headboard of the bed in a bid to obey instructions and not move his hands, no matter how much he wants to grab a fist full of those curls.

He's brought right to the edge before Daniel lets him go, a quick ask for a condom and a search through Charles' bag and he's back on the bed with him, tongues tangled in a deep kiss again before Charles watches Daniel open the packet, biting his lip as he rolls the condom onto himself and then looks at Charles with a soft smile. 

"Lay on your side, away from me."

Charles does as he's told, making himself comfortable, tensing slightly when he feels Daniel touch him in that most intimate place before relaxing. He moans softly as a finger presses into him, moving in and out gently. There's an added stretch of a slick second finger for a while before sudden nothing and Charles whines, the noise dying in his throat when he feels Daniel press against him. It all seems so more intense this time, he's aware of everything, none of the white noise of alcohol dulling any sensation as Daniel slides into him slowly, stretching him oh so good.

"Daniel." Charles moans his name, feeling Daniel's strong arms wrap around him as he bottoms out, fully inside, completely connected to one another. 

"Charles." Daniel whispers, kissing the skin behind Charles' ear as he slowly starts to move.

It's so much better than any of the fragments of his memory of that night in Vegas would have led Charles to believe. The feeling of strong arms holding him, the way he can hear Daniel panting into his ear as he starts to speed up, the uncontrollable moans and pleas that fall from his own mouth. The bruising grip on his hip and the tug on his hair as Daniel shifts slightly and starts to properly fuck him, hitting that sweet spot with each thrust until Charles is babbling in a mix of languages, making no sense but making perfect sense at the same time. They make perfect sense. The years and years of their relationship developing, the events of their lives pushing and pulling them away from each other and back again, all to come to a literal climax in random hotel rooms.

His name sounds so sinful on Charles' lips when he comes, a long choked out "Daniel" as he dirties the sheets, body spasming as he comes down from his high. Just a few more thrusts and Daniel is spent, rolling onto his back and removing the condom, pushing it back into the packet and leaving it on the bedside table. 

The weight of the weekend and the last few weeks catches up with Charles fast, pushing him toward sleep as he cuddles up to Daniel's side.

"You're not gonna run away from me in the morning again are you?" Daniel says as he plays with a strand of Charles' hair.

"Well, I won't have an angry girlfriend to deal with so I guess not."

Daniel laughs, giving Charles a kiss on his head, "I think we're on the same flight back to Monaco."

"Great." Charles yawns.

Daniel rolls his eyes, "Youth of today. Goodnight prince."

Charles smiles and drifts off to sleep.

What happens in Vegas...


End file.
